


a very fond farewell

by vtforpedro



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet, Character Death, M/M, Meeting Again, Old Age, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-18 21:21:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20319685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vtforpedro/pseuds/vtforpedro
Summary: In which Bilbo journeys to Erebor one last time.





	a very fond farewell

Bilbo arrives in Rivendell and spends six months in the elven city.   
  
He had assumed he’d be there for quite a bit longer but now that he’s stretched his legs and left the Shire behind for good, well, he thinks he may just continue on. It’s as he said to Gandalf; he wants to see mountains again. The greatest peak that Middle Earth has, far to the east, filled with familiarity.   
  
Lord Elrond smiles in understanding and sends Bilbo off with an escort of elves to get him through the Misty Mountains and across a wide open valley to the forest of the Greenwood. He thanks Lord Elrond profusely for his kindness but most of all for his friendship, and for always listening to Bilbo’s stories. He says goodbye and knows he will never see him again.   
  
He’s growing older now and very quickly at that. There’s something inside of his heart that tells him it was the ring that has extended his life and now that it’s gone, age is catching up with him. He doesn’t think he’ll live to be as old as his grandfather but he’s made his peace with that. Bilbo has already celebrated a milestone birthday and that’s enough for him.   
  
The mountain calls to him in his dreams. He wakes every morning with the scent of fresh mountain air in his nose and the feel of stone underneath his fingertips.   
  
Erebor.   
  
A lonely mountain, calling him home, and he must answer.   
  
They cross through the mountains and valleys with no incident and Thranduil’s elves meet him at the forest when they arrive. Lord Elrond’s escorts bid him a very heartfelt farewell and he watches them go with no regrets. He had fallen in love with Rivendell on his journey and it will always hold a special place in his heart but there is a different home that awaits him.   
  
He travels through the forest and marvels at the lack of anything dangerous. It has come a very long way since he last ventured here, no longer infested with orcs or spiders. Its trees are beautiful and green, bent in all directions, and the sunlight above sparkles down to the forest bed below.   
  
Bilbo speaks with the elves who have lighter hearts than he remembers. He’s treated as a royal guest when he gets to the palace and Thranduil’s ire at his freeing his friends from the dungeons is gone. Thranduil smiles at him instead and bows his head and ensures that Bilbo has all the wine his heart may desire.   
  
He sends Bilbo off with another escort to Erebor and Bilbo knows he will not see Thranduil again in this life.   
  
His very bones ache the closer he gets to the mountain, which towers over him, a far more welcoming sight than it once was. His bones have ached for a long while but not in the way that they do just upon setting eyes on the mountain. He thanks his escort when they walk him to the gates and says a soft hello to Erebor, his hand on the gates.   
  
Bilbo’s friends are there. The company greets him and they rejoice together, for it has been long years filled with letters and gifts, but no embraces. He has missed them desperately and hugs all of them with great fondness.   
  
His heart aches then, for there are three missing, but he knows that someday, somehow he will see them again.   
  
There is a feast that night, filled with Bilbo’s favorite dwarvish foods, and he laughs and smiles and tells the company stories he never included in his letters. They listen and laugh and grin, toasting him with ale, and he has never felt more at home.   
  
He knows he will hold these memories close.   
  
When he looks in the mirror that night, he sees that age has properly caught up now, but he smiles at the thought.   
  
There are few reasons to be sorrowful in the mountain and a long life well lived isn’t one of them.   
  
He will never see Frodo again, he knows. Not in this life, but perhaps in the next, many long years from now, he hopes.   
  
Bilbo enjoys his friends’ company for three days before he decides it’s time to visit the tombs. He has exhausted his stories and conversation for now and cannot put it off any longer.   
  
When he wakes that morning, he finds he cannot walk very far and must ask his friends for help down to the royal tombs. They bring a cart and when he can no longer use it on the pathways down to the tombs, Bofur takes his arm and helps him walk down many long staircases. His cane helps, but only a little.   
  
They reach the tombs and Dwalin appears with a cushioned wooden armchair held in his arms as if it weighs nothing. He goes into the tomb first and when he comes out, he smiles at Bilbo and asks him to say hello for him. Bilbo pats his arm with promises to and bids Bofur goodbye at the entrance, so he might have some time to himself.   
  
“Oh,” he sighs as he walks inside and sees three tombs.   
  
They are huge and magnificent, with stone statues of Thorin, Fili and Kili lying on top of them, their eyes closed, their swords grasped in their hands.   
  
Just as the day he said goodbye. Goodbye to Thorin, to Fili and Kili, and Erebor.   
  
Dwalin has kindly rested his armchair next to Thorin’s tomb and once he has gone around and touched Fili and Kili’s stone cheeks, he sits down with a great sigh.   
  
“Hello, Thorin,” he says as he looks at the lying statue. “They’ve captured your likeness very well.”   
  
It’s immensely silent here, but it’s not oppressive. It’s peaceful and warms his heart, to know that they aren’t disturbed.   
  
“I talk to your oak tree often enough,” Bilbo says. “So I know you know most of the stories. But perhaps I should tell you the story of the journey to Erebor? I think you’d like that.”   
  
So Bilbo does. He starts from the beginning, with a visit from a wizard, and teases Thorin for his first appearance in Bag End and how very arrogant he had been. He tells Thorin he understands why he was and that he forgave him for it, as Thorin had known, even as he mentions that Thorin still remained an arrogant sod.   
  
He tells Thorin that he fell in love with him despite it all, that day on the Carrock. He tells Thorin what his embrace meant to him in that moment, in a way he never found the time to when Thorin was still living. He knows that Thorin must know it, wherever he is, but he tells him again, even if it’s for the one hundredth time.   
  
“I’ve never stopped loving you,” Bilbo sighs. “I never wanted to. Just the thought of you got me through the worst days.”   
  
He tells Thorin about how they journeyed through the valley and met Beorn and confesses he had wanted to take Thorin out into the flowers and make a dwarf out of him. He snickers to himself at the thought of Thorin blushing and touches his stone hands.   
  
“Wouldn’t that have changed our adventure?”   
  
He tells Thorin of the forest of Mirkwood and his breath of fresh air in a cloud of blue butterflies. He tells Thorin how he felt when he first came across him in the dungeons and what it felt like to free him from his prison.   
  
He tells Thorin of Erebor and how he had fallen in love with it once they had rid Smaug from the mountain. He tells Thorin that he never gave up on him and never would have.   
  
He tells Thorin what it was like losing him. Holding him in his arms one last time and watching the light fade from his eyes as snowflakes began to fall.   
  
He tells Thorin he was his greatest love and he holds on to the side of Thorin’s tomb until his arm grows weak and he must let go.   
  
Bilbo closes his eyes once his tale is done.   
  
“Open your eyes.”   
  
“I’m very tired. I think I’ll take a short kip before I leave, if you don’t mind.”   
  
“You have already taken one.”   
  
“Have I really?” Bilbo asks grumpily.   
  
A hand touches his shoulder. “Open your eyes,” a familiar voice says.   
  
Bilbo does then. He looks at Thorin’s stone tomb and sighs before he looks up at Thorin himself.   
  
Thorin is standing at his side, smiling fondly down at Bilbo, a lightness to him there never was before. He removes his hand but offers it to Bilbo instead.   
  
Bilbo takes it and stands. He’s startled that it is with no aches and no pains and looks down at his hands. They’re young hands again, no pronounced veins or age spots. He looks at Thorin, whose face is as clear as day to him, and understands.   
  
“Did you hear my tale?” he asks with a smile.   
  
“Every word,” Thorin says. “Will you tell me it again,  _ ghivashel?” _   
  
“Of course, my dear,” Bilbo says. “But where shall we both sit?”   
  
“I know a place where we might go,” Thorin says and tugs on Bilbo’s hand, turning toward a bright light.   
  
It fills the tomb with warmth and a fresh breeze and Bilbo tilts his face up toward it.   
  
“Then lead the way,” he says.   
  
And Thorin walks into the light, Bilbo by his side, beginning the tale of a journey to Erebor and back again.

**Author's Note:**

> It feels great to write some bagginshield again. I got this idea and immediately had to get it down. So... I hope you liked it, even if it hurt a little! Kudos and comments are so appreciated.
> 
> [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/vtforpedro)


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